Disguised

Satan masquerades in robes of light,
pretends to be all things to all men,
by turns playful, slight, canonical, scholarly—

he knows what people want
and when.

He aims to rip your sails
with twisted winds of doctrine,
capsize your heart on tides of whim.

Smiling, he turns your chin away
from plain-faced, sharp-tongued
mortal angels around you,

but when you hear them plead from shore,
turn back. Catch their rough hands
as they reach imperfectly
through storm to rescue.

• Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry

• Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com